Tales of the Stanley Cup
by Ryan Phelan
Summary: The Ducks have won the Stanley Cup!  Now what do they do with it?  (FINISHED!)
1. Wildwing

A magazine article I read about the Stanley Cup inspired this story.  Every year each member of the NHL Championship team gets the Stanley Cup for 24 hours; they can do whatever they want with it.  What would the Ducks do with the Cup?  Let's find out.  First up, Wildwing!

Oh, and The Mighty Ducks are owned by Disney blah blah blah.

Tales of the Stanley Cup

By Ryan Phelan

"No!"  Wildwing said for the third time.

"Come on, Wildwing!"  Phil whined.  "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!"

"For the last time, Phil, you are not going to use the Stanley Cup to meet women!  Right after this assembly we are taking it back to the Pond, period!"

Wildwing and Phil stood backstage in the packed auditorium of Anaheim Middle School.  With them was the most coveted award professional hockey had to offer:  The Stanley Cup.  After the Mighty Ducks won it Phil wasted no time setting up photo shoots and personal appearances.  

A woman in a business suit approached them.  "Mr. Wildwing?  Mr. Pomfeather?  I'm Miss Brooks, the principal," she shook both of their hands.  "Thank you so much for coming out today.  The kids are really excited.  Shall we get started?"

"Let's," Wildwing nodded.

Miss Brooks walked out to a podium in the middle of the stage.  "All right everybody, settle down!"  She waited until the all the students stopped talking.  "As you know we have a special guest today, Mr. Wildwing of the Anaheim Mighty Ducks.  He's here to talk to you about the secrets of a successful career.  Then we'll have a question and answer period…"

"Will we get to see the Stanley Cup?"  A student yelled out.

"Yes, you'll all get to see it," Miss Brooks replied.  "Now please…"

"Can we touch it too?" Another voice yelled.

"Yes, you'll all get a turn.  Now…"

"Are we…" another student began.

"Please welcome Mighty Ducks team captain, Wildwing!"  Miss Brooks exclaimed.

Wildwing walked on the stage with the Stanley Cup to thunderous applause.  It was several minutes before the noise died down.  

"Thank you.  It was a truly an honor to win the Stanley Cup.  You too can achieve your goals with hard work and dedication.  But the cornerstone to success is education.  With a good education there's no limit to what you can accomplish."

Wildwing paused.  He could feel the podium vibrating.  The vibrations grew more intense, spreading throughout the auditorium.  Plaster began to rain down onto the stage.  He instinctively pushed Miss Brooks out of the way just before the ceiling directly above them collapsed.  A floating platform came in through the hole; at the controls stood a familiar figure in tights and a cape, sporting a rubber brain-shaped hat.

"Tremble in fear, you intellectual midgets!" he said, hovering above the crowd.  "It is I, The Mindbender!!"

He looked down at the sea of blank faces staring back at him.  "Mindbender.  Evil genius?"  The students looked at each other.  "You are in the presence of a supervillan!!"  Mindbender yelled.  "Let's see some cowering!"

"Not you again!"  Wildwing groaned.  "I thought you'd learned your lesson!"

"On the contrary, I'm here to teach a lesson!"  Mindbender retorted.  He pulled a lever.  A mechanical claw shot out of the platform and seized the Stanley Cup, hoisting it into the air.  "You see kids, I didn't need to work hard to get the Stanley Cup!  That's why evil is the way to be!  If you want something all you have to do is take it!"

"Yeah, well take this!"  Wildwing yelled, firing off some tether pucks.  They wrapped around Mindbender's legs.  Startled, he pulled on the lever trying to regain his balance.  The claw opened and the Stanley Cup dropped back onto the stage.  Mindbender fell off the platform.  The audience broke into wild applause.

"No so fast!"  Mindbender said.  He pulled out a remote control and pressed a button.  Tiny buzz saws popped out of his belt and cut the rope.  "You see!"  He cried, jumping to his feet.  "I have become an even greater adversary since we last met!  And I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve!"  

He pressed another button.  A door on the platform opened to reveal a bomb with a large red light that blinked menacingly.  "Now I am going to take the Stanley Cup and leave and you won't try to stop me!"  He cackled.  "Or else I'll detonate my condiment bomb and bury you all in a sea of spicy brown mustard!!"

"All right, Mindbender, you win," Wildwing sighed.  He picked up the Stanley Cup.  "Take it!"  He heaved it right at Mindbender; it hit him square in the chest, sending him back to the floor and knocking him unconscious.

"Well, kids, what have we learned today?"  Wildwing asked.

"The Stanley Cup is really heavy!"  A student exclaimed.

"Well, yes," Wildwing said.  "That and crime doesn't pay." 

The police came and hauled Mindbender away.  The rest of the assembly continued without incident; afterwards Wildwing placed the Stanley Cup in Phil's car, and the two were on their way back to the Pond.

"Nice job saving the day boobola," Phil said.  "I would have helped you out but I was in the janitor's closet checking for, uh, booby traps!  You can't be too careful with these evil genius types!"

"That's okay, Phil," Wildwing replied.  "The important thing is that I got to spend time with the students."  

"Yeah. They really liked you," Phil said.  "You have a way with kids."

"Well, when I was a kid I my idol was Brad McDrake.  He was a star of Puckworld's Gold League.  He came to my school once and signed autographs, and he told me how much his fans meant to him.  I'll never forget how special that made me feel.  I guess I want to share that feeling with others."

"That's a beautiful story, Wildwing," Phil said.  "Speaking of sharing, there's this bar on the way home with a server named Lulu.  How's about we take the Cup and…"

"NO."

**************

One duck down, five to go!  Whose turn is it next?  Stay tuned!


	2. Nosedive

Captain Comics was open for business, but the employees were not behind the counter.  They were in the storage room with Nosedive and the Stanley Cup.

"This is so cool!"  Said Mook, admiring the Cup.  "And you get to keep it all day?"

"All day and all night," said Nosedive proudly.  "Twenty-four hours.  This is the coolest Earth custom since Christmas!"

"It's bigger than I thought it was," Thrash said, taking a bite out of a burrito.  He reached out to touch it. 

"Stop!"  Nosedive said.  "You are not touching the Cup until you wash your hands!"

Thrash and Mook just looked at him.  "I'm sorry, guys," Nosedive sighed.  "It's just that a certain red-headed teammate of mine didn't think I should be taking the Cup out by myself.  Said I'm too irresponsible.  So I bet her I'd bring it back in perfect condition.  Loser does the winner's chores for a week."

"Don't worry Dive, we'll help you," Thrash said.  "We'll make Mallory eat her words!"  He popped the last of the burrito in his mouth.  Mook nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, guys," Nosedive grinned. 

"Hey, Thrash, mind if I take my lunch break now?"  Mook asked.  I haven't eaten all day!"

"Sure," Thrash replied.  

"Great," Mook said.  "Dive, do you want to come with?"

"Well…" Dive said, looking at the Cup.  "I guess Stanley will be okay back here for a little while."

"He'll be fine," Mook said, dragging Dive towards the door.  "Come on, I'm starving!"

The Golden Palace was packed; it took a long while for Mook and Nosedive to get their order and eat.  When they got back to Captain Comics they found an exhausted Thrash leaning against the counter.

"The moment you left I got slammed!"  He groaned.  "They just kept coming!  It was nuts!"

"Poor baby," Mook said.  "Here, have an egg roll."

Nosedive went into the storage room and immediately ran out again.  "Where's the Cup??"  He cried.

"What do you mean?"  Thrash asked.

"I mean the Stanley Cup is gone!!"  Nosedive said in a panicky voice.

"That's impossible!  I was really busy, but there's no way I wouldn't notice someone walking out with it!  And they couldn't have gone out the back door, it's always locked except when…" Thrash suddenly went pale.  "Jim the moving guy!  He came by to pick up those boxes of surplus comics and junk!"

"You think he took the trophy too?"  Mook asked.

"We can chase him down and find out!"  Thrash said.  "I know where he's headed!"

"Let's go!"  Dive said.

Moments later Thrash, Mook and Nosedive were in Thrash's car heading downtown.

"I'm sorry Dive," Thrash groaned.  "This is all my fault!

"No it's not," Dive said.  "The Stanley Cup is my responsibility.  I never should have left it."

They pulled up to the warehouse and found a bewildered-looking man on the loading dock.

"Jim!"  Thrash yelled, sticking his head out the window.  "Where's your truck?"

"Stolen!"  Jim cried.  "I was just about to unload the cargo when I got a phone call.  When I got back the truck was gone!!"

"Oh, great!"  Mook said. "Now what do we do?"

"We look for clues," Dive replied.  He got out of the car and looked around the lot.  "There!"  He cried, pointing to something near the sidewalk.  He walked over and picked it up.  "It's a comic book!  And there's more down the street!"  

They followed the trail of comic books across the city.  Eventually it led to an abandoned warehouse in a seedy part of town.

"Stay here, I'll check it out," Nosedive said, jumping out of the car.  He walked around the building, checking all the doors and windows.  Finally he found an unlocked window and managed to push it open just enough to squeeze through.

The inside was dark and damp with a thick musty smell.  Piles of boxes and crates were stacked high towards the ceiling, forming a maze of cardboard and wood.  A forklift sat in the corner gathering dust.  Nosedive heard voices coming from the other side of the building.  He followed the sound until he saw the truck, as well as two men who were sifting through its contents.  Nosedive stayed out of sight and listened.

"Argh!  Look at all this junk!"  Said a lanky man with orange hair and a goatee to match.  "Garth, what were you thinking, stealing a truck full of comic books?!  How are we supposed to make money off these?"  

"C'mon, Dex, it's not all junk!"  Garth replied.  "What about that life size cardboard cutout of Jar Jar Binks?"  

"Hey guys, check this out!"  A third voice said.  A burly man jumped out of the back of the truck with the Stanley Cup.  "We hit the jackpot!  We got the Stanley Cup!"

"Yeah, right, Jed," Dex snapped.  "What would the Stanley Cup be doing with some cheesy comics and Star Trek action figures?  It's just some cheap prop!"  

Nosedive knew he had to act quickly.  "Okay," he muttered to himself.  "All I have to do is sneak past those guys, grab the Cup, sneak back out, and Mallory will never find out the Cup got stolen.  No problem.  I just need a plan."  He leaned against a box to think.  Unfortunately it was not as sturdy as it looked; the box crumpled under his weight, split open and sent thousands of marbles across the concrete floor. 

The three men jumped.  "What was that?"  Garth cried.

Dex grabbed a wrench.  "Let's find out," he coolly replied.  Jed grabbed a crowbar, Garth grabbed a chain, and the three of them advanced towards Nosedive's hiding place. 

Nosedive scrambled to his feet and ran towards the back.  He climbed up a pile of boxes and crouched on top of them as the trio came near.  "Split up," Dex growled.  The men took off in opposite directions.

Nosedive waited until Garth was directly beneath him, and then dropped a box full of sweat socks onto his head.  He hopped down from his perch.  "Who knew sweat socks could be used as a weapon?"  He mused as he looked at the unconscious robber.

"Garth?  What was that noise?"  Jed asked.  He tightened his grip on the crowbar doubled back.  

Nosedive appeared at the end of the corridor.  "Garth's not available.  Can I take a message?"

Jed lunged at Dive, crowbar raised.  Nosedive disappeared around the corner.  Jed followed and immediately slipped on the marbles.  He tried to get up but Dive konked him with a ceramic Dalmatian, sending him down for the count.

"Man, there's all kinds of stuff in these boxes," Dive said.

"You're right!"  Dex came into view, brandishing a machine gun.  Nosedive ran, barely managing to stay ahead of the spray of bullets.  He grabbed the Stanley Cup and ducked behind the truck.  Dex pumped dozens of rounds into the truck, turning it into a twisted heap of metal.  "You're next Duck!"  He laughed hysterically.  "You and that stupid cheap trophy!"

Nosedive was certain this was it.  Suddenly a strange rumbling sound echoed through the warehouse, followed by a surprised yell.  Nosedive peeked around the truck and saw Thrash and Mook at the controls of the forklift, with Dex groaning underneath a pile of toppled boxes.

"Guys?"  Nosedive cried.  "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, we said we'd help you take care of the Stanley Cup," Thrash grinned.

******************

Later that evening the three friends sat in Thrash's house eating ice cream and watching the truckjackers being arrested on the news.

"I don't know how to thank you guys for saving Stanley and me," Dive said.

"Hey, you already have," Thrash said, taking another bite of Rocky Road.  "How many people can say they ate ice cream out of the Stanley Cup?"

"I gotta say it's the perfect size for a giant sundae, but aren't you worried we'll scratch it or something?"  Mook asked, looking at Dive.

"Nah," Dive replied.  "What good is winning the Stanley Cup if you can't share it with your friends?"

"Sounds like you've learned a valuable lesson," Mook teased.

"I have," said Nosedive.  "When you make a bet with Mallory, go for a whole month's worth of chores instead of a week!  I can't wait to see the look on her face when she finds out she has to clean my room…"

****

Don't go too far, we're just getting started!  Methinks it might be a female teammate's turn next…


	3. Mallory

Mallory sped along the lonely country road towards Anaheim, the Stanley Cup strapped securely to the back of the duckcycle.  She had spent the day in the sleepy town of Sunnyville, where a mad scientist had once tried to dissect her and her teammates.  But Nosedive and a human named General Doug McClaine foiled his plan.  Mallory and the General bonded that day, and when the team won the Stanley Cup she naturally wanted to share her victory with him.

This visit had been much more pleasant than the last.  They sat in the General's living room swapping war stories.  She was fascinated with the way humans fought wars and impressed with the General's vast collection of weapons.

"Weapons don't win wars, Mallory," the General had said.  "They're just the tools.  Brains are the most important part of a soldier's regimen."

Mallory had mumbled something in reply, and then abruptly changed the subject.  As much as she admired the General, she found that comment to be pretty naïve; after all, it wasn't a brain that that blew up the master tower on Puckworld.

BANG!!!  BANG!!!

It all happened in an instant; there was a loud noise and a split second later Mallory hit the grass hard.  She lay dazed for a few moments, and then slowly got to her feet.  She ached all over, but there didn't seem to be any serious injuries; luckily, her armor had absorbed most of the impact.  

The duckcycle was crumpled against a tree, its tires shredded.  Mallory hurried over to the wreckage and examined the Cup; amazingly, it was okay.  She breathed a sigh of relief and winced in pain.

Then she noticed something shiny in the tire's remains.  Upon closer examination she saw it was a small metal ball with long spikes sticking out of it.  She glanced over at the road and saw several more of them glittering on the pavement.  Mallory instantly pulled her puck blaster; someone had set a trap, and they were probably nearby.

Something large swooped by her, narrowly missing her head.  She looked up and saw a large bird circling above her, preparing for another attack.  Mallory lifted her puck blaster and took aim.

"Not so fast duck!"  A heavily accented voice said. 

Mallory whirled around and saw a strange man standing in the highway.  He had a goatee and a metal eye.   

"I haf been waiting for you," the man said with an evil gleam in his (natural) eye.  "You will be the first trophy in my 'Hall of Ducks!'" 

"Who are…?"  Mallory began, but suddenly it hit her.  "You're that crackpot who hunted my friends for sport!  Baron Von Licking Stamps!" 

"It's Baron Von Lichdonstamp!!"  The man snapped.  "Since my last encounter with you ducks I haf adopted a new strategy- divide und conquer!"

He pulled out a remote control and hit a button.  The bird dived, firing laser beams from its eyes.  Mallory fell back as the blasts tore into the ground.  She tuned and raced into the woods.  

"You can't outrun mine new und improved hunting companion!"  The Baron called after her.  "Icharus II will hunt you to the ends of the earth!"

Mallory tore through the underbrush, weaving her way around an endless sea of trees.  She could hear the bird's lasers blowing the forest apart behind her.  Suddenly she burst into a clearing and skidded to a halt in front of a steep cliff.  Mallory spun around and raised her puck launcher.  But before she had a chance to fire the bird came barreling at her like a bullet, clipping her on the ribs.  Mallory stumbled back and felt the ground give way beneath her.  Down, down she fell, until she felt herself engulfed in cold, rushing water.

***************

Mallory's eyes fluttered open.  She could feel the water lapping at her thighs, the soft mud against her head like a pillow.  Her muscles cried out in agony.  She thought hard and it all came into focus; after she hit the water, she grabbed a large piece of driftwood and let it carry her downstream.  When it got shallow enough Mallory had willed herself to stand and struggle to the shore, where she collapsed.  

It was dark now, but a full moon bathed the shore in an illuminating glow.  Mallory tried to get up but her body screamed in protest, forcing her to collapse again.  

_Get up Mallory_ a voice said.  Mallory was surprised to find the voice sounded like General McClaine's.

_Come on soldier, this is no worse than boot camp.  Now get up!!_

Mallory slowly got to her feet.  Thanks to the General's prompting, her military training kicked in.  First, she needed dry clothes.  She pushed a button on her com; instantly her battle gear was transformed into dry civilian clothes.  Unfortunately, it caused her com sputter and short out.  

So much for calling for backup, Mallory thought bitterly.

She trudged away from the shore and began to gather leaves and twigs.  It was too risky to build a fire, so she created a warm nest to bed for the night.  Once completed, Mallory curled up and pondered her next move.  She was cut off from her teammates and had lost her weapon in the river.  Worst of all, she had let the Stanley Cup fall into enemy hands.  She had to go back for it.  But the Baron was sure to be waiting for her, and he had the tactical advantage.  

The General's words popped into her head again.  _Brains are the most important part of a soldier's regimen_.  

Mallory inadvertently snorted.  It still sounded ridiculous.  But then again, she had run out of options.

*************** 

All night long the Baron sat near the Stanley Cup and waited.  That was fine by him; patience was the key.  He had once crouched by a watering hole for 37 hours waiting for a black rhino to take a drink.  Its head, mounted above his fireplace, was one of his most prized trophies.  He loved a challenge.

Icharus II circled above, ready to alert the Baron at the first sign of the duck.  The Baron knew she would return to the wrecked vehicle to retrieve the Stanley Cup.  He had spent months watching the ducks, studying their every move, so he would be fully prepared this time.  This time he would hunt them down, one by one, and prove he was the greatest hunter on earth…

Suddenly Icharus II let out a high-pitched sound and dove into the forest.  There were several loud blasts, then another high-pitched sound, then silence.

"Icharus?"  The Baron called out.  He pressed the button on the remote, but the bird did not return.  He tightened his grip on his crossbow and entered the woods.

Daybreak was creeping across the forest.  The Baron took slow, deliberate steps; for nearly a mile he walked, electric eye whizzing, looking for any trace of movement.  Then he noticed something familiar on the ground.

"Icharus!!"  He cried, bending over a twisted pile of metal.  "What happened to you?!"

"This!"  A voice yelled.  The Baron looked up and saw Mallory standing on top of a steep slope next to a tree.  She let go of a large branch, slinging several rocks at him like missiles.  The Baron dived behind a fallen tree and covered his head as the rocks hit the ground around him.  When the barrage ended he rose up, crossbow ready.  Mallory was loading up the branch with a large rock.  The Baron took aim and fired.

The arrow rocketed towards Mallory.  But instead of hitting her it hit the slope where she was standing and exploded.  She tumbled to the ground, still clutching the large rock.  Mallory threw it at the Baron, but he sidestepped and it landed harmlessly behind him.

"Pathetic," he growled.  "So, duck," he said as he aimed the crossbow directly at her heart.  "Any last words?"

"Yeah," Mallory gasped.  "Look out."

The Baron heard an odd sound behind him.  He turned around and saw a brown cloud rise from the large rock Mallory had thrown.  Only it wasn't a rock at all.  It was a hornet's nest.

The angry insects immediately attacked, swarming around the Baron.  He dropped the crossbow and ran, the hornets in hot pursuit.  His yells grew fainter the father he ran, until there was silence in the forest once more.  

Mallory got up, grabbed the Baron's crossbow, and limped towards the highway.

*************

Mallory lay on her bed and looked at the Cup.  Tanya had treated her wounds and ordered her to get some sleep.  But Mallory only had an hour left with the Stanley Cup, and she wanted to savor every minute.  The Cup was proof of her excellence as a hockey player and a solider.  On both occasions she was pushed to the limit physically and mentally, and she prevailed…without using weapons.  It looked like she owed someone an apology.

Mallory picked up the phone and dialed the General's number.

*************

Yay!  We're halfway there!  Let's hope the Cup can survive three more ducks….


	4. Grin

Grin lit the incense and placed it in front of the Stanley Cup.  He stepped back and surveyed his bunker; the candles were lit, the mediation crystals were hung, and the Pond was quiet and peaceful.  He was ready to begin.

His teammates found it odd that he would attempt a spiritual connection with an inanimate object.  But the Stanley Cup wasn't just an object.  It had been in the presence of hockey's greatest players during a time when their emotions were at an all time high.  Over the decades the Cup absorbed these energies, giving it an aura of its own; even now he could feel it.  Not that he expected his teammates to understand.  They weren't trained to seek a higher plane of enlightenment like him. 

He sat down cross-legged in front of the Stanley Cup, closed his eyes and began the mediation techniques taught to him by his master, Tai Quack Do.  He could feel the presence of countless champions who had the trophy before him.  He was one with them, heard their voices…

"NOSEDIVE!!"

Mallory's angry yell brought Grin crashing back to Earth.  

"NOSEDIVE, YOU ARE SO DEAD!"

"C'mon Mal, can't you take a joke?!"

"Come back here and take your beating like a man!"

"AAGH!  Wing, help!

"Don't drag me into this, Dive.  You're on your own."

"Mal, Ok, Chill…no, Mal, wait!  I…"

KABOOOOOM!

A loud explosion rocked the Pond, shaking plaster loose from the ceiling and knocking over several candles.  Grin quickly set them upright again, then realized the pond was too quiet.  For a split second he thought Mallory had made good on her threat.  Suddenly his com crackled into life and Tanya's voice could be heard.

"Hi, guys.  Sorry about that, I had a little, um, mishap in the lab.  I'm okay, though."

"Nosedive, get out here!"  Mallory could be heard pounding a nearby door.  "You can't hide in there forever!"  She yelled.

"I can try!"  Nosedive yelled back.

Grin sighed heavily.  It seemed that if he were to be one with the Cup, he would have to go somewhere else.

***************

It was a typical Saturday in Anaheim Park, with plenty of people out and enjoying themselves.  Nevertheless, Grin managed to find a quiet spot under a tree in by the man-made pond.    It wasn't the meditation shrine he had spent so much time constructing in his bunker, but Grin had no complaints.  Nature was an excellent substitute.

Grin settled down in front of the Cup.  He closed his eyes and began his breathing.  Soon his mind was clear.  Once again he felt the energy of the Cup wash over him… 

"HEEEELP!!"  A small voice cried out.

Grin opened his eyes and spotted an overturned paddleboat in the middle of the pond and two small children flailing wildly in the water.  Without hesitation Grin grabbed the Cup and dived in.  With his powerful strokes he reached the kids in no time; moments later the soggy group arrived on shore. 

"Look at that!"  Someone yelled.  People from all over the park came running.

"Grin, can I have your autograph?"

"Can I touch the cup?"

"What's Duke like in person?"

"Can you give Mallory my phone number?"

The crowd grew larger as more and more people arrived to find out what the fuss was about, including a TV news crew that was at the park covering the dedication of a new gazebo.

"Grin, Grin!"  The reporter cried, elbowing her way through the crowd, "what's it like to have the Stanley Cup?  Hey, you kids want to step aside?  I'm trying to do an interview!  Anyway, Grin, did you take the Cup for a swim because you couldn't bear to be parted with it for even a moment?"

Grin signed autographs and posed for pictures for nearly twenty minutes before he could gracefully excuse himself.  He carried the Cup to the duckcycle and peeled out as quickly as possible.   
Grin pondered his next destination as he waited for a stoplight to turn green.  There had to be someplace he wouldn't be disturbed.  Then it hit him.  The light changed and he sped towards the public library. 

***************

As Grin had hoped, the library was quiet.  Except of course for the hushed whispers that followed him and the Stanley Cup everywhere they went.  He searched the building until he found a small empty room in a dark corner.  It was filled with dusty volumes of government rules and regulations for everything from agriculture to zoos.  Grin was confident he would not be disturbed.

So once again he sat in front of the Cup.  Again he closed his eyes and began to meditate.  Again he felt the energy of the Cup.  Again…

RATTTATTTTAAATTTRATTTATRTTAAAATATTTAATTTATATTARATAT

The noise was coming from outside.  Grin got up and went over to a small window, where he saw a construction crew hard at work on the building next door.  Not wishing to move again, he decided to try diplomacy.

If the foreman was surprised to see a large alien duck approach him, he didn't show it.  He continued his work even as Grin began talking.

"Pardon me friend, but is there a chance you could work more quietly?"

No response.

Grin tried again.  "The worker ant treads softly while building its nest."

The foreman looked up.  "Listen, buddy, I don't know about any ant, but I'm three weeks behind schedule and I gotta lot of angry people riding my back.  Now unless you're Union get offa my site!"  He then went back to work.

And so Grin left cranky foreman's construction site, and the library, far behind.  He kept driving long after the city of Anaheim disappeared behind him.  

***************

Several hours later Grin pulled over.  He surveyed his surroundings; nothing but flat, empty desert as far as the eye could see.  The sun had also begun to set, bathing the land and sky in soft shades of yellow, purple and blue.  Best of all, he hadn't passed another vehicle for miles.  It was perfect.

Grin sat down and faced the Cup.  Its aura was strong; the raw energy of the athlete's triumphs sent tremors through his body, growing stronger and stronger…

In fact, the tremors grew so loud that Grin was shaken out of his mediation.  The entire desert was trembling.  Suddenly the ground under the Cup began to swell.  Grin watched in horror as the Cup was raised higher and higher into the air, then sent flying as the mound exploded in a hail of dirt and stones.  Grin found himself facing a gigantic worm-like creature, with a giant slobbering mouth that showed of rows of menacing teeth.  Perched atop its head was a squat little man dressed in black from head to toe, wearing a helmet and a glowing red visor.

"Tremble in fear, surface dweller!"  He bellowed.  "I am King Mordork of the Underdwellers!  We are taking over the surface world and turning you all into our humble slaves!  Surrender now or I will command my army to destroy you and your village!!"

He looked down at Grin.  "Well?  What do you say?!"

Grin stared at the King for a long moment.  Slowly his hands curled into fists and he spoke in a quiet, deliberate tone.

"I say…my inner peace has been disturbed enough for one day!"

He leaped up and delivered a round of punishing blows on the worm.  The creature and its rider toppled to the ground.  The King barely had time to sit up when Grin laid him out with a single punch.

Grin stood over the King's groaning, battered body.  "Perhaps you would like to reconsider your plan."  He said.  

"Yes," the King croaked.  "Me and Wormy are going home and won't even think about coming to the surface again."

Grin nodded.  The King limped over to his worm and the two of the slinked back into the hole they came from.

As Grin watched them leave a peaceful feeling washed over him; all the memories of the day drained out of him and were replaced with a soothing calm he hadn't felt in a long time.  He retrieved the Cup (which was dusty but otherwise okay) and sat down to mediate.  Soon the rest of the world melted away and it was just Grin and the Stanley Cup.  And this time not even the fleet of eighteen-wheelers, the cattle stampede, or the jet plane that made an emergency landing could shake him out of it.    

***************

Only 2 ducks to go!  Can the Stanley Cup survive?  Stay tuned…


	5. Tanya

On a tiny island miles off the coast of California lives the brilliant but antisocial scientist, Dr. Hoogerman.  Normally he went to great lengths to keep people off his property, but today was different.  Today his friend Tanya was there and she had brought the Stanley Cup.

After he helped the Ducks defeat Dragunus's energy monster Dr. Hoogerman had returned to his island to continue shunning the human race.  However, he brought along a personal computer.  Tanya convinced him that no angry loner should be without one.  Plus, they could play virtual Go Fish.

So when Tanya emailed him with the news her team had won the Stanley Cup, he invited her to bring it to his island.  Eager to see her friend and intellectual equal again, Tanya was happy to oblige.

"Incredible!  I never thought I'd befriend a star athlete," said Dr. Hoogerman, running his hand along the Cup's rim.  "When I was young people like you beat up people like me."

"Well, here's to peace between our two people," Tanya laughed.  She took a sip of her water and looked around the lab.  "So what have you been up to?"

"I'm glad you asked," Dr. Hoogerman replied.  He strolled over to a large computer, not unlike Drake One.  "My security system has been on the fritz lately.  I've been working on an upgrade and I could use your input.  Here, let me pull up the schematics."  

He pushed a red button on the control panel.  Instantly a trapdoor opened, swallowed the Stanley Cup, and closed again.

"Dr. Hoogerman!" Tanya cried.  "What…"

"Darn!"  Dr. Hoogerman said.  "I thought I fixed all that."

"What are you talking about??"

"I bought this island and the fortress from a fellow scientist who moved his operation overseas.  Strange fellow, can't remember his name at the moment.  He left most of his equipment behind, so I decided to modify it to my needs.  Looks like I still have a few bugs to work out."  

"Never mind that now," Tanya snapped.  "We need to find the Stanley Cup!  How do we get downstairs?"

"Hold on, I have the original blueprints around here somewhere," Dr. Hoogerman replied.  He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a dusty rolled up piece of paper.  He brought it to a table and unrolled it.

"Let's see," he said, looking it over.  "There's a secret passageway behind the fireplace in the library."

"Great, now I'm in a game of CLUE," Tanya muttered.  "Okay, let's go."

**********

They navigated their way through the many rooms of the fortress until they came to the library.  Moments later they were making their way down a dark and winding staircase, Tanya leading the way using a small flashlight on her omnitool.  After several twists and turns the stairway stopped at a heavy wooden door with the lock and hinges rusted solid.

Tanya pressed another button on her omni tool and a small blowtorch popped out.  "I could use one of those," Dr. Hoogerman marveled as he watched her cut through the aged wood.

Minutes later the door gave way and they stepped into a large chamber.  Discarded lab equipment was scattered everywhere.  The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust.  Blueprints in hand, Dr. Hoogerman walked to the middle of the room and stopped.

"According to this, the trapdoor is right above me."

"So where's the Cup?" Tanya asked.  She looked around.  "Hey, what's that?"  She asked, shining the light at Dr. Hoogerman's feet.  

A wide line carved its way through the dust into a passageway at the far end of the lab.  There were also several footprints.  "It looks like someone dragged the Cup away!"  Tanya cried. 

"Impossible!"  Dr. Hoogerman scoffed.  "There's no one on this island but us!  My security system would have detected any intruders, if it was operational."

"This is getting weirder and weirder," Tanya muttered.  "C'mon, let's see where the trail leads."

The passageway led out the back of the castle and into the jungle.  For over an hour they made their way through the dense vegetation, Dr. Hoogerman complaining the entire way.

"Unbelievable, someone living on my island rent-free…I'm going to give them a piece of my mind before I kick them out…the nerve of some people…"

Finally Tanya had enough.  She was about to tell Dr. Hoogerman to can it when she saw a shadowy figure duck behind a tree.

"Wait, what was that?"

"Huh?  I don't see anything," Dr. Hoogerman snapped, quite annoyed that his rant was interrupted.

"I saw something!"  Tanya cried.   "Right behind-"

Suddenly four figures dropped from the trees, surrounding the pair.  They had the build of a human, but the features of a cat, furry, fanged and menacing.  

"Intruders!!"  A tall gray one snarled.  "Come with us!"

"You're calling US INTRUDERS??"  Dr. Hoogerman sputtered.  "Why I…"

"Quiet!"  Tanya hissed.  She turned to the creatures.  "We'll come quietly."  

The gray one nodded and headed into the bush.  Tanya and Dr. Hoogerman followed, the rest of the creatures bringing up the rear.  Before long they arrived at a clearing, and the two friends gasped at what they saw.

Stretched out before them was an entire village of half-human, half-animal creatures.  Each of them stopped whatever they were doing and stared at the two strangers as they were marched into the center of the village.  Tanya looked around in amazement; these creatures were unlike anything she had ever seen on this planet.  She felt strangely comfortable around them; it was nice to see others like her for a change.  She was jolted out of her thoughts by a familiar sight.  Perched atop a large stone altar was the Stanley Cup.

"Dr. Hoogerman, look!"  Tanya cried.  "They have the Stanley Cup!"

"So they're thieves as well as trespassers!"  Dr. Hoogerman said.  He faced their captors.  "That's it!  I demand to speak to your leader!"

"That would be me," a deep voice said.

The crowd parted and a large gorilla emerged.  He was dressed in a simple tunic with a long red sash knotted neatly at his hip.  Despite his fearful appearance, his eyes reflected a deep intelligence that Tanya immediately respected.  She quickly stepped forward before Dr. Hoogerman could begin another tirade.

"My name is Tanya and this is Dr. Hoogerman," she said.  "And may I ask who or what you are?  Are you aliens?"

"We are crimes against nature," the gorilla replied.  "Genetically created by a human who fancied himself our God.  His name was Dr. Moreau!"

"Moreau!"  Dr. Hoogerman cried, snapping his fingers.  "That was the name of the fellow who sold me this island!"

"He treated us like slaves!"  The gorilla snarled.  "It was I who led the rebellion against him.  We fled deep into the jungle and began our own society.  I am their leader...MR. BANANAS!"

"Good for you," said Dr. Hoogerman sarcastically.  "But that doesn't justify breaking into my fortress!!"

"We occasionally return to the place of our birth to search for supplies," Mr. Bananas replied.  "Today our scouting party was there and that dropped from the sky."  He motioned towards the Stanley Cup.  "There was only one thing to do with it."

"Worship it as a gift from the Gods?"  Tanya asked.

Mr. Bananas looked at her like she was crazy.  "No, I declared it first prize in today's Fastball Tournament."

"Fastball?"  Tanya asked.

"Our sport," Mr. Bananas replied.  "Two players hit a ball with a stick, trying to knock it into the other's goal.  The first to score three goals wins."  

Tanya looked over at the Cup again.  It sat in front of a long field.  At the end of each side was a net.  Several creatures were on the field, batting a ball around with a flat stick.

"Now see here," Dr. Hoogerman sputtered, "that trophy belongs to Tanya!  You have no right..."

"The only way she is getting that trophy is to win it!"  Mr. Bananas roared.

"All right!"  Tanya cried.  "I'll enter the tournament!"

**********

The tournament began at high noon.  The entire village lined the sides of the field, their excited cries filling the air.  Dr. Hoogerman sat front row center, a coconut drink in one hand and a hastily made sign that said GO TANYA in the other.  

Tanya's first match was against a hippo.  Despite the similarities to ice hockey, she found it difficult to run instead of skate.  Tanya spent a lot of time on the offensive, trying to stay in the game.  Her mind worked furiously; the hippo was strong and hard to get past, but she was fast and nimble.    The score was 2-1 when the hippo advanced on her, batting the ball back and forth.  She waited until he was practically on top of her, and then ducked.  The Hippo flew over her and landed in the net; the ball, however, stayed with Tanya.  She raced to the other end of the field and hit the ball into the other goal, winning the match.

"All right Tanya!"  Dr.  Hoogerman cried.  "Excellent use of physics!"

As the afternoon progressed, Tanya won again and again, moving up the ranks.  Finally, by defeating a half-man-half owl creature, she advanced to the Championship match.

"My fellow freaks," Mr. Bananas roared across the crowd,  "this is the moment you've all been waiting for!  This match will determine the grand victor and recipient of the Great Sky Trophy!  Now, the opponents.  Introducing the reigning champion, Felonious the Mighty!"

A large gray cat stepped onto the field; it was the same cat that first confronted them in the jungle.  The roar of the crowd was deafening.

"...and the challenger, Tanya the Outsider."  Mr. Bananas said.  Tanya trotted into the field to absolute quiet; Dr. Hoogerman lost his voice from the long day of cheering.  Instead, he smiled and waved.  Tanya managed a weak smile in return; she had never played so hard for so long and she was exhausted.  Plus, she had watched Felonious's last match.  He was fast and aggressive and showed no signs of fatigue.  This would be a difficult match with everything at stake.

Her fears were well founded.  Felonious quickly scooped up the ball at the face-off and dashed down the field, quickly scoring the first goal.  Tanya grabbed the ball and charged towards her opponent.  The two clashed, each furiously trying to claim the ball.  Suddenly Tanya heard a sharp crack, and saw the bottom half of her stick go flying.  Felonious seized the opportunity to body check Tanya, sending her to the ground.  He then took the ball and scored his second goal.

Tanya called a timeout.  She walked to the bench and took a gulp of water.  She looked at the trophy; she was one goal away from losing it.  How could she explain that to the NHL officials or worse yet, her teammates?  She looked over at Felonious; he was staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes.  She'd seen that look before on the dinosaurs Dragaunus set loose in Anaheim.  She was now feeling the same sick fear she felt then.  

"Get a grip, Tanya," she told herself.  "You're not just a hockey player, you're a Mighty Duck!!  You can do this!"  With Grim determination she seized a new hockey stick and marched back onto the field.

Felonious sneered at her as they faced off.  But that look quickly turned to surprise as Tanya barreled into him, stealing the ball and scoring a goal.  Tanya was elated but she knew she wouldn't get away with that again.  Felonious snorted and took the ball.  Tanya braced herself as he charged.  Suddenly he slapped the ball with all his might; it sailed over Tanya's head towards the goal.  It hit the ground and rolled, stopping mere inches from the goal.  Tanya and Felonious raced neck and neck towards the ball.  Their sticks hit the ball at the same time, sending it out of bounds.  As the ref kicked it back into play, Tanya could feel her foot catch on something; before she knew it she was crashing to the ground.  Picking her head up from the dirt, she saw Felonious recover the ball and spin around to face her.  Her computer-like brain worked furiously as he prepared to smack the ball.  As she calculated the final trajectory, he swung.  Lunging forward, her elbow connected with the ball, sending it sailing across the field and into her opponent's goal.

The crowd exploded in cheers; she was winning them over.  The anxiety she felt over the possibility of losing the Cup was replaced with the heart pounding adrenalin that came with playing a great game.  The ref signaled her to come to the center of the field for the final face-off.  The crowd fell into a dead silence as Tanya and Felonious stared deep into each other with the intensity of two warriors.  The ref dropped the ball, and the two hockey sticks crashed together, the sound echoing like lightning across the island. 

*********

"Well, Tanya, I believe you are the only hockey player in history to win the Stanley Cup twice in one season," Dr. Hoogerman said as he watched Tanya load the trophy into her motorboat.

"It was no big thing," Tanya replied.  "I'm glad you and the tribe reached an agreement that will let you share the island."

"Yes, it was a great learning experience," Dr. Hoogerman replied.  "It is possible for different people to live in peace, as long as we each stay on our side and avoid each other at all costs."

"I'll see you soon, Doctor," Tanya said, starting the engine.  Neither of them was aware of the two figures watching them from high atop a rocky cliff.

"I still can't believe I lost to that outsider!"  Felonious growled.

"She won fair and square," Mr. Bananas replied.  "You fought well, Felonious. You should be proud."

"There's no prize for second place," Felonious grumbled.

"That is why Tanya triumphed.  Her passion for the game, not the desire to win a trophy, is what led her to victory.  We could all learn a lesson from such a great warrior."  Mr. Bananas said as he watched the boat disappear over the horizon, back towards civilization.

*****

We're in the home stretch!  How will Duke spend his day with the Cup.  Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion!!


	6. Duke

Author's note:  I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed my story, and apologize for the LONG breaks between chapters (I'm such a procrastinator without a deadline)!  But now this story is officially finished (and it only took a year)!  So without further ado, I present the final chapter in the Stanley Cup saga…

It was an uneventful day at the pond, and the ducks were taking advantage of the rare opportunity to kick back and relax.  In the rec room Wildwing sat reading a book, while his brother battled a horde of sludge monsters on his handheld video game.  Mallory and Grin were engaged in a round of Puck chess, which usually took hours thanks to their evenly matched battle skills.

The doors _whoosed _open and Tanya stepped in.  "Guys, have you seen Duke?"  She asked.  

"He left awhile ago.  Didn't say where he was going," Nosedive replied. 

"Yeah, and that bothers me," Mallory added.  "He has the Stanley Cup with him."

Wildwing looked up from his book.  "Mallory, I thought we were past this.  Duke has proven his days as a thief are behind him."

"Hey, I trust Duke.  I don't trust those lowlifes he hangs out with," Mallory replied.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," Tanya said.  "Still, I wish he hadn't left already.  The electronic chip in his eye patch is due for servicing." 

**********

Duke Drove slowly down the deserted street, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.  It was nearly pitch black except for the faint glow of the rusted and dented lampposts, which cast a sickly yellow light on the sea of crumbling buildings.  He often came to this part of town when he needed information on a supervillian or Dragaunus.  Though reformed, he knew that keeping one foot in the seedy side of life was useful.  After all, it took a criminal to understand a criminal mind.

It also meant keeping a low profile, since not everyone in the neighborhood was happy having a Mighty Duck around.  That was why he had "borrowed" Phil's car.  In the back seat hidden under some blankets lay the Stanley Cup.  Duke knew he would have to take extra precautions this time; normally he wouldn't think of bringing such a prize to this side of town, but he had no choice.  He shut off the headlights and turned into a dark alley.

As he got out of the car his sharp ears detected footprints approaching from behind.  He instinctively whirled around and grabbed his sword.  Standing in front of him was a short rodent-faced human with greasy hair.

"Whoa, Patch, settle down!"  The man threw up his hands.  "It's just your old pal Ferret!" 

"Ferret!  What do you think you're doing sneaking up on me like that??  Duke snapped, putting his sword back in its place.

"Me?  I think you're a tad jumpy today.  Better watch that, such tension causes high blood pressure."

"Your concern is touching," Duke replied, rolling his eyes.  "Look, I'm in a hurry so..."

"Hold up there, champ!  I have some dirt that you will find most interesting."

"I'm not here to buy information today, I have a previous engagement."  Duke replied.

"You can't afford not to buy!" Ferret cried, grabbing Duke's arm.  "There's going to be a break-in at the 5th street bank tonight at midnight.  Seems there's a valuable diamond being held in a safe-deposit box there!"

Duke shook Ferret off.  "First of all, don't ever touch the threads!  Secondly, I'm busy tonight!  Go tell the cops!"

"The cops?  There's no money in that!"  Ferret replied, wrinkling his nose in distaste.  "Speaking of which, I believe you owe me payment for services rendered," the little man held out his hand.

"You're kidding," Duke replied, growing more annoyed by the second.  "I told you I wasn't interested!"

"Hey, you listened to what I said," Ferret replied.  "It's not like I can take it back from you.  Now you best pay up or I shall be forced to call in a collection agent."

"Why you little…" Duke moved towards Ferret but was stopped in his tracks by a heavy hand clamping down on his shoulder.  Duke looked over his shoulder and saw a hulking stone-faced man towering above him.

"Duke, meet Rocky, my collection agent," Ferret said.  "Rocky, show Duke how we deal with deadbeats."

Suddenly Duke found himself flying through the air, landing squarely in a dumpster.  Shakily he tried to get to his feet, but slipped on dumpster slime and fell backwards against the wall.  At that moment he could hear a strange buzzing sound inside his head.  Then to his horror his eye patch died.  

Ferret's high-pitched voice echoed down the alley.  "Maybe the duck's got something worth hocking in the car."

In a flash Duke was out of the dumpster, in a fighting stance with his sword ready.  "Step away from the car!"  He cried. 

"Oooooh, we're quaking in our boots," Ferret laughed.  "Get him, Rocky!"

Rocky pulled a piece of pipe from his coat and lunged at Duke.  Duke blocked the swing with his sword and stepped to the right to avoid the full force of the blow.  Rocky swung again and again, each blow harder than the last.  Duke blocked with the skill of a master swordsman, but having only one eye made it more difficult.  Then he caught a glimpse of something that could stop Rocky.  Duke allowed the thug to push him back, further into the alley.  

Suddenly Rocky's swing grazed Duke's shoulder with enough force to make him lose balance.  Before Duke could regain his balance Rocky dealt another blow that knocked him off his feet.  Duke's sword retracted.  Rocky towered above him, with Ferret standing nearby grinning wickedly.  

"End of the line, Duck," Ferret said.  "You should have just paid me."

"And you should find smarter friends," Duke snapped.  He hurled his sword into the air, straight at the fire escape above Rocky's head.  The hilt hit the release, sending the ladder shooting down and right onto Rocky's head.  Rocky fell to the ground, out cold.  Wordlessly Duke got up, grabbed his sword and walked back towards Ferret. 

"Hey, pal, I was just kidding.  You can take a joke, right?"  Ferret asked nervously.  "Consider this a freebie, 'cause we're such good friends.  Right?  Good!  See ya, good buddy!"  Ferret raced down the street as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Duke walked to the car and got the Stanley Cup.

**********

The Stanley Cup seemed much heavier when Duke had to carry it up five flights of stairs.  He walked down a dingy hallway until he arrived at apartment 5D.  He put the Stanley Cup down and knocked.  Behind the door were sounds of shuffling.  For nearly five minutes Duke waited patiently.  There was the sound of several deadbolts being unlocked, and then the door slowly swung open.  

A withered old man with a kindly face stood in front of Duke.  His eyes lit up.  "Duke!  You made it!"

"Hey, I wouldn't miss one of our visits for the world," Duke replied.

The man stepped aside.  "Don't just stand there, come in!"

Duke stepped into the cramped apartment.  Objects obtained over the old man's lifetime were crammed into every available inch of space; dusty books, record albums, old lamps and cracked collector's plates were piled everywhere.  A threadbare chair and footrest occupied the remaining space.  The walls were cluttered as well; snapshots of men in hockey uniforms stared out at Duke, as well as several framed medals.  A fat grey cat trotted out from the kitchen area and went straight to Duke, meowing loudly.  

"Hey, Chester, how's my big guy?"  Duke asked.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a catnip mouse.  He tossed it to the cat, who immediately began to bat it around.  Duke set the Cup down next to the chair and after helping the old man into the chair, sat down on the footrest.

"Hockey's highest honor," the man sighed, "you must be so proud."

"It was a group effort," Duke said.  "I'm proud of my entire team."

"I haven't been in the same room with the Stanley Cup in 30 years," the man continued.  "When it was my turn, my buddies and I took the Cup barhopping in L.A. and woke up in Tijuana without the Cup.  We eventually found it at an elderly couple's souvenir stand.  Apparently we had swapped it for two dozen key chains."  The old man chuckled at the memory, and then grew somber.  "The problem with being on top is that there's nowhere to go but down.  Moments like these are fleeting, Duke, savor every moment."

"I always do," Duke replied.  "But I don't play hockey for fame or glory, and I get the feeling you didn't either."

"No," the old man replied.  "But the fame and glory are nice perks."

The two laughed.  Conversation turned to other things.  Nothing worth mentioning here, but it meant a lot to them.  Finally, as the watch hands approached midnight, Duke stood to leave.

"Well, it's been fun as always, pal, but I have to get going," Duke said.  "There are some gentlemen I have to meet.  They plan on taking something from the 5th Street Bank that doesn't belong to them."

"Same time next week?"  The old man asked hopefully.

"You know it."

Duke took the Cup and headed back to the car.  Soon he would thwart a crime and be back at The Pond in time for a midnight snack.  He took a moment to reflect on the irony, as he had many times before; a former thief stopping thieves.  They came to earth to capture an alien overlord, but most of the time they were stopping crimes committed by earthlings with brains the size of peanuts.  And for what?  Why risk their necks on a daily basis for a planet that wasn't even their home?  

Duke started the engine and backed out of the alley.  He cast one final glance up at the old man's window.  It was all the answer he needed.  He took off, ready to once again make Earth a little safer for all who lived there.

THE END


End file.
